I'm the pterodactyl killa'From the City of TucsonYa' mess with me baby,Come and get it on.There's never been a fight that I backed away from,So next time remember,Don't mess with my Mom.

You make fun of my name,The noble Carreon,We came here with Cortez,And our legacy lives on.The battles that we fightAre the ones that must be fought.When the smoke clears, Matt,Your army will be gone.Next time remember,Don't mess with my Mom.

Your allies are the fools Who cut and paste all day.They think they're important,But their anger is impotent.They say nasty things,But they don't get paid.Their ignorance is deep,So ya' get 'em on the cheap.

Your humor's scatological,Your mind is pathological.Did someone drop you on your head,When you were in your baby-bed?Did they take away your rattle,And teach you how to tattle?

Whatever the reason,You have committed treasonAgainst decency and sanity,You're offensive to humanity.

But never fear --I'm here to liberate you.There's no chinks in my armor,So I don't have to hate you.I raise up the swordThat vanquishes disorderI place you without passionIn the matter transporter.

You see, winged reptilesaren't needed here.What we need is thoughtful peopleWho are decent and sincere.

So get behind me, Satan!You're just a bit of roadkill,Like the thief of Sex.Com,Just another fool,Who thought he was the bomb.Next time, Mr. Inman,Don't talk about my Mom._______________

Andrew: How do you respond to someone who says, “This is the worst comic I ever saw in my life"?

Matt: When I used to work for people I had this sense of diplomacy. I had to respond like, “Well, I’m sorry you feel that way. I appreciate your criticism,” and blah, blah, blah. Now I work for myself and really no one can control what I say. So usually I tell them that I slept with their mom or I say the most vile, awful thing I can think of. If you read my Twitter account, it is like Hitler’s port-a-potty. It’s the worst thing that you’ve ever seen, just this awful stuff that I say to my critics on there. Just to troll them, mostly. So that’s usually how I respond to it. Like a drunk 15 year old, I think, is the best way to put it....

Andrew: What about in the beginning when you were going into Digg and you knew that if you won this group of people over, they’d send you massive traffic and if you turned them into haters, they’d bury you and you wouldn’t get anything from them. At that point, weren’t you nervous?

Matt: Yeah. At that point, I wouldn’t have gotten on Digg and been like, “Hey, your mom and I made love under the stars. Ha ha ha. I liked it.” That probably wouldn’t go over so well. But now I’m kind of at this comfortable level. And part of my writing style and the persona that I have online is sort of this crass, bloated, obese, drunk monster. So, in the beginning, you’re absolutely right, probably insulting my critics wouldn’t have gone over so well....

Matt: I think the feedback that has changed my comics somewhat wasn’t from comments, it was from traffic. I found that certain themes, that if I attack, will actually drive traffic like crazy and that other things won’t.

In particular, writing about a gripe. It’s the stand-up routine where someone gets up there and says, “What’s the deal with airline food?” You take that and you apply it to a comic. Those ones go crazy. Like, “Things That You Shouldn’t Do In E-Mail,” “How to Suck at Facebook,” “Words You Should Stop Misspelling,” these are all gripes. That was one that changed. But that is, hopefully the one that stands alone. I try to make things that I think are funny and that I enjoy. But the gripe one is one that I sort of embellished a little more because it seemed to resonate with people.

Two seagulls in an updraft One of them's me Talking to an eagle telepathically We say, let's play He says, you better be fast We say, let's show him what we got, and then A bit of turbulence tips me off the shelf A flutter and my airfoil's lost, I'm headed down, down, down The earth getting bigger, Clearer every second The streetlines and the landscape Comin' down with the wind in my ears Comin' down with the breath stuck in my throat Comin' down wondering can I brake in time Comin' down and I realize I can do this I can do this I can do this Slow my descent steadily Wind in my ears Steady my fears Comin' down Comin' down Comin' down Reassume my weightlessness briefly Just before my feet alight On solid earth At a walking pace As I reach out my hand to catch the hand Of a girl I know, Riding her bicycle Our fingers gently touch and She says, “How'd you do that?” “Oh,” I say without excitement, “I know how.”

All know the greasy metal,the stink, the heat, the crackedand grimy gaskets, the defeated clutch,the shoeless brakes that have eateninto their drums, exploded mufflers,failed tires, dead batteries,While so few have appreciated withunderstandingthe steady beat of all the engineering ticking fine --

It's a miracle, and a homey one at that:So many things working together to turna single shaft.Valves opening and closing to thepredetermined rhythmof the ever-turning crank,Communicated through the simple mechanismof a chain.

Oh spark-plugs, sparking at the commandof theloquacious rotorOh silent coil secretly amplifyingthe power of the batteryOh carburetor, mixing air and gasolinelike an alchemistOh oil-pan humbly lying below all things,filling up with sludge and filings --Oh engine, we take for granted the burdenyou bear --mutely your cylinders and rings wear away --your flywheel loses its teeth --your valves become encrusted --the intelligence of your steel decays,is worn away by time -- you fumble,you falter -- the trim muscles of goodcompression waste away -- gravity gets youdown -- you do not make the hills, youcannotpull the load anymore. Oh worn away, oh broken down, Oh tired and unsteady, you are passed on to the poor, To those who gamble on a transmission And play Russian Roulette with a recalcitrant starter.And you will try, you will exert yourselfTo uphold their faith,Drinking watered gasoline, putting up withQuantities of cheap oil that youBlow out in a sickly exhaust. So come away, come away then There is no heaven for you, to beearned By grace or works ! Render them good service -- Three-hundred dollars worth and then, in the parking lot of the supermarket, in the carport, on a long haul over a steep hill, Give it up -- Burn your bearings, crack your head, throw a rod, Give it up ! Disintegrate the order that maintains you, forget the intelligence that makes you different from scrap, Annihilate the hot homeostasis that maintains your monotonous life -- Give it up, like a feveredillusion, And submit to the junkman's hook.

Everybody wants to look like Paris HiltonSo it could be anybody,Just like you are nobody,'Cause today is just another day,and Hey! They're towing your car awayYeah, they're towing your car away.

On TV, we see them,Dressed up in crazy clothingThen we all wanna do the same

We're boring,we're stupid,And no one wants to see us--I hate my stupid name

If only we could all be like Paris Hilton,Free to charge it and take it awayIf only I could be like Paris HiltonI'd fly to Hollywood and thereI'd permanently stay.But everybody wants to be like Paris HiltonWhere it's always recess and time to playBecause when your name is Paris HiltonEvery day is a beautiful day.

The sun comes up on another day People in a land they call holy Droppin' bombs and burnin' families Looks like it's just another stage In our planetary nightmare

It's the human condition It's the human condition Tooth for tooth Eye for eye That's why the whole world Has gone blind We waste the fruit And eat the rind Makin' hell on earth In search of Paradise It's the human condition It's the human condition

Long ago in a desert land A tribe of herders got a bit too wise They said, we’ll claim we are a special people And all the men will get circumcised

We’ll make a deal with God Almighty Claim he gave us lands of milk and honey, We’ll write a book of fantasy And claim impressive ancestry.

And each successive generation Bought a slice of their deception Claiming God was on their side.

From Constantine to Martin Luther Witchhunts to the Inquisition Good had nowhere left to hide.

It's the human condition It's the human condition Tooth for tooth Eye for eye That's why the whole world Has gone blind We waste the fruit And eat the rind Makin' hell on earth In search of Paradise 'Cause it's the human condition It's the human condition

Long ago, but they wrote it down He was born in a little town Visited by three wise men I wonder if they knew how it would end.

The chosen people said he wasn’t theirs The Roman ruler washed his hands of it They hung him up where people could see What happens to a revolutionary.

Skip ahead a thousand years His sacrifice provided cause, For murder, theft and roguery.

Religious teachers spread confusion Creating madness and delusion For they know not of the thing they speak

They promise us eternal life Deliver us to endless strife And advocate a strong defence.

The years advance But we regress Humanity cannot progress Until we get up off our knees.

It's the human condition It's the human condition Tooth for tooth Eye for eye That's why the whole world Has gone blind We waste the fruit And eat the rind Makin' hell on earth In search of Paradise 'Cause it's the human condition It's the human condition

So stop your worshiping of other gods And bow your heads to each other Take the gold from the priestly classGive it to our children and mothers

Stop contributing to our destruction Let’s save the world for our children Say no to the priest’s seduction And put the Pope on welfare

Let’s try to build a human future Get rid of the mental cancer -- Life could have a fighting chance

A warning at the vital hour Could save us from the worst disaster Change the course of history

Let’s change the human condition Let’s change the human condition No more tooth for tooth No more eye for eye No more killing In the land of the blind We’ll eat the fruit and Compost the rind Make Heaven on earth To hell with Paradise Let’s change the human condition Let’s change the human condition Let’s change the human condition Now!

> WORK VERY BUSY > Lama in town > Weather cold & windy > Coffee > Grass > Cognac > Christmas food > War-weariness re work > Stunted creativity re lawpoets > Hardcore rock and roll > Eating pastas and pastries > Wall outside my office window > Pizza > Cops <off-duty> > Wall Street Journal > Debt > Revising one document until it's a psychic shred > Dreaming of lying at the bottom of a pool > Grasping at something uncertain > Beautiful sky and light <can't grasp sky or light or beautifulness ... anxiety> > Speed ... from one event to another > Suffering of others ... my business, not my business > Good boy Bad boy (repeat) > Smart-aleck LA Weekly (Weakly?) > Topic of discussion ... discourse on relative concepts ... clever talkers shut up! > Muscular efforts to "make it" > It only works for a while > All breaks down eventually (then you build it up again) > Nihilism (I made my mind up about nihilism the other day but now I can't remember what I decided) > Reinvent the wheel (Why not? Get back to basics.) > Clever ... doesn't matter if I'm clever, I don't need to hustle girls anymore; nobody listens or cares (or if they do, what does it matter?) > The boring that folks do stays after they leave; the cleverness is oft forgotten with the slamming of their departure > Impute, impute, impute meaning to things ... oh yes ... this makes a Difference ... a big, big Difference. > What makes a difference? Lying down in a warm bed Having peaceful vibes in your heart Treating other people decently Being able to bear sorrow Without inflicting it on others.